


THE BEST Destiel Fanfiction that Ever Ever Existed

by madsj



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Froyo, M/M, Male Pregnancy, broken froyo machines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 05:29:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4423187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsj/pseuds/madsj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EVER.  (I've never even seen Supernatural.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean sat in the kitchen, daintily eating his pie. This pie was warm and gooey, with a delectable cherry filling. The crust slowly crumbled and fell to his plate, where he would pick up the crumbs with his thumb and eat all that he could.  
Dean was content.  
Something was missing though.  
All of a sudden, the ceiling disappeared, and someone floated down from the sky.  
“Castiel??” He shouted in a voice deeper than the Kola Superdeep Borehole. “I thought you were gone forever! Lost to the depths of Purgatory!”  
“I came back for you,” he seductively whispered. He leaned towards Dean’s ear and whispered, “I brought you something.”  
Dean had to stop himself from jumping over the table and kissing his angelic lips that looked smoother than the surface of Jupiter’s moon, Europa.  
Castiel descended to the ground and held in his hands a piece of angel food cake.  
“It’s not pie,” his ethereal voice hummed, “But it is heavenly.”  
“Just like you,” Dean muttered, hoping Castiel wouldn’t hear him.  
Castiel heard him.  
“I love you, Dean.”  
“I love you too, Cas.”  
Then their lips met.


	2. Chapter 2

“Toaster?” Dean asked, throwing the box in the air and catching it.  
“Check.” Cas answered, writing a check mark on their list.  
“Microwave?”  
“That would be the third.”  
“Knife block? It has knives in it.”  
“Sam gave us one already. Who’s this one from? Actually, scratch that -- we don’t need it. Sam gave us the exact same one.”  
“But… honey… knives...”  
“Dean, no.”  
“Cas, yes.” His grin was wider than the Amazon River. He opened the box with one of the knives from Sam, voiding the warranty on the new box, and placed the block next to the other one.  
“There. Now we have more.”  
“I don’t understand why we need two… It’s the exact same knife block.”  
“I don’t understand why we DON’T need two. More knives. We can kill demons if they break in.”  
“I’ll put something on the door to keep them out.”  
“Too late. It’s already open and out.”  
“Dean...”  
“Cas...” he mocked.  
They both giggled.  
Castiel leaned forward and kissed his husband.  
Just then, a blue demon burst through the window, shattering the glass all over the floor. Dean leaped forward and grabbed one of the knives from the block from Sam, but the demon had already grabbed Cas and was running out the way he came.  
Just like that, his husband was missing, and at the hands of the demon.  
“CAS!!!” he yelled in his unbelievably deep voice. He heard a deep scream in the distance, followed by the distinct screech of the demon that took his husband.  
Dean was upset. He ripped off his shirt and beat on his chest, yodeling loudly and stomping so much that the ground began to shake. All of a sudden, Sam burst through the window that the demon came through.  
“You called??”  
“Cas is GONE!!” he yelled!  
“I’m right in front of you. You don’t have to yell.”  
“I’m angry!” he angrily yelled, a little louder.  
“Well… what do you want me to do?”  
“We need… baby.” he looked dramatically into some invisible camera. Sam shook his head in disappointment. Dean ran out the broken window, and Sam followed. He jumped into his 1967 black Chevy Impala and started the sexy roaring engine.  
“Pick some music!” Dean growled.  
“This is so unlike you! Usually it’s driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his piehole.”  
“Yeah… well… Cas has a surprisingly good taste in music.”  
“Cher Greatest Hits… Celine Dion… Britney Spears… what the heck?”  
“Shut up.”  
For the next few hours, they listened to the tapes on repeat.  
“DO YOU BELIEEEEVE IN LIFE AFTER LOVE????” SAM JAMMED.  
“I CAN FEEEEL SOMETHINNNGGG INSIDE ME SAY”  
“I REALLY DON’T THINK YOU’RE STRONG ENOUGH NOOOO”  
It was a beautiful duet.

“So… do we actually know where we’re going?”  
“No. It’s just another aimless roadtrip to pick up weapons and then find out where that demon took my husband.”  
“Another aimless roadtrip??”  
“Oops, I did it again!!”  
“But what weapons do we need?” Sam inquired. “What kind of a demon is it? Where are we going to get these weapons? Do we need holy water? Should we yell Christo (even though we never do that unless they’re flight attendants and we’re on a plane)?” Dean noted that his brother had gotten better at speaking in parentheses.  
“SCREECH!!” the tires of the Impala screeched as Dean slammed on the brakes and jumped out his window.  
“What are you doing?” Sam yelled, casually stepping out and flipping his long, long hair so it looked like he was starring in a Hollywood movie with some famous actor who is probably ugly. Probably because his hair isn’t as long as Sam’s. Sam had hair that Chris Hemsworth as Thor would envy.  
“The reAL question, dear brother,” Dean growled, “is what did you do to your hair? I told you to cut it or at least tie it back! It’s getting in the way of your demon hunting! We need to save people, hunt things to keep up the family business! And your hair is going to get into your eyes!”  
“I resent that!”  
“We’ll see if it bothers you later. In the meantime, it appears that we have arrived at our destination.”  
Merely steps away from the car was a small, wooden shack. Muffled rock music played through static and the walls as they walked through the door. A small, blue man scurried in and behind the desk and greeted the two brothers.  
“Welcome to Fünke’s Weapons. We -- well, I am here to supply you with whatever you need to slay vampires, hunt demons, werewolves, et cetera et cetera. What do you need, then?”  
“I need you to tell me about this demon.” Dean whipped out his phone and showed a picture of the demon to the shopkeeper. (How’d he get a picture in the moment when his husband was kidnapped? Well I’m not here to answer all of your questions, you little shit. Focus more on the fact that he has a picture.)  
“Hmmmmm… looks like a… TessStevenson… I have exactly what you need.” He ran into the back room and came back out with a terrifying sword.  
“Now that is a sword!!” Sam noted.  
“What sharp wit you have, dear brother!” Dean sassed back.  
“This sword was once owned by Japanese fighters.” The owner explained. “It has a lengthy history.”  
“Can you… samurais it for us??” Sam giggled.  
“That was awful. It looks like you’re not… cut out for puns...”  
“You know what they say… the pun is mightier than the sword.”  
“OK THAT’S ENOUGH!” the shopkeeper yelled. “Buy the sword or get out of my store!”  
“Goodness, sir. I am sorry that our puns are...” Dean looked at his brother for helped and shrugged. “I got nothing. Here. I don’t have money normally, but this was from wedding presents.” He took a wad of cash out of his pockets and handed it to the blue man.  
“Wait a moment… Shopkeeper, sir, where were you earlier this morning?”  
“Out for a walk.”  
“Whereabouts?”  
“Why does it matter where I enjoy taking my evening strolls??”  
“Morning, sir.”  
“Morning strolls?? Why does it matter?”  
“Because, sir,” Dean took a step toward the desk, “I’m wondering where my husband is.” The shopkeeper twitched uncontrollably and sprouted horns and wings.  
“EXCUSE ME??? HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF SUCH AN ACTION!!”  
“Are you denying it?”  
“WELL I AM NOT GOING TO SAY THAT I DID IT. HOW DAAAAAAAARE YOU!” he started for the door, but Dean took the sword from the desk and swung it around.  
“FÜNKE!!! WHERE IS HE?????”  
“I will… NEVER tell you!”  
Dean threw the sword and it hit Fünke, who fell and died instantly.  
“Your plan is... foiled.” Dean held his hand up for a high five, and Sam shook his head after the terrible pun and reluctantly gave in. “Let’s go find Cas.”  
“DEEEEANNN!!!!!!” a voice screeched from the other room.  
“CCAAAAASSSS!!!!” Dean yodeled and beat his chest as he ran in.  
“How’d you know it was Fünke who kidnapped him?” Sam asked once the couple strolled out, arm in arm.  
“Oh… uh… I don’t know. I took a guess. Also, I knew that it wasn’t a TessStevenson.”  
“So you accused a man that you weren’t sure of? What if he was innocent?”  
“Good thing I wasn’t!” he clicked his tongue and kissed Cas.


	3. The Angsty Epilogue

A few years flew by almost as fast as Castiel could fly with his towering wings. Castiel didn’t fly anymore, though. After his three pregnancies and five children, he didn’t want to fly anymore. He had no more strength to fly. He was as weak as someone who didn’t work out.  
Dean came home from his 9 to 5 job. After all, even superheroes need to earn money, and hunting and killing evil things doesn’t pay the bills.  
“Cas, honey! I brought ice cream!!” He said in a voice so husky it could pull a sled.  
“dEaN!!!! I told you I wanted froyo!”  
“Well, honey, there was no froyo. There was only ice cream.”  
“Well, dEaR, you could have gotten yogurt, and frozen it youRSELF!!”  
“We can’t even afford a freezer!”  
“Should have thought of that before taking your hunting up!”  
“I was like four! And it wasn’t just me! You know, saving people, hunting things…”  
“tHe FaMiLy BuSiNeSs.” He mocked, much like a mockingbird. “Well now you have your own family! You have 5 children! And another on the way!”  
“Gasp!” Dean gasped.  
“Why you gotta be so rude??”  
“You married me anyway!”  
“Marry that girl”  
“Marry her anyway”  
They went back and forth for the rest of the song. The kids looked as scared as Maddie Jensen going through a haunted house.  
“Dean, I’m sorry I yelled at you. But I am right. And I want my froyo.”  
“I accept the first part of your apology. Let’s go get you some ice cream.”  
“FROYO!!”  
“OMG Cas, we’ll get you some froyo. I hope we can afford it on my meager salary...” his salary was as small as a Hydrogen atom that consists of but a proton and an electron.  
So they went to the froyo place and filled their cups with froyo. After many years of getting his own froyo, Castiel could now operate the machine without any managerial supervision. He did not understand the magic behind the machines and the heavenly substance that was the froyo, pouring out like the Mississippi River. There was so much froyo. It was everywhere. All over the floor, all over the walls, all over his husband. He had accidentally broken the machine.  
The manager came over and yelled many choice words. He did have a choice of what words to say, but he chose those specific ones to express his anger. He demanded that they pay for the damages to the machine and to the precious froyo that was now scattered and desecrated. Dean took out his wallet, and felt it grow a little lighter as a fly flew out. It was so empty, that insects decided to take home in his fancy leather wallet that was made from a demon.  
“Cas… I have no money.”  
The manager chose to repeat a few of the words and make obscene gestures with his hands. The five children thought this was funny, and they started running around the establishment, every one of them slipping on the thin layer of pink froyo.  
The seven found themselves with mops and wet floor signs as they cleaned up the mess that Castiel had made. Castiel had started to cry, because his hormones were as present as presents under a Christmas tree.  
“Babe, I’m sorry that your froyo didn’t work out.”  
“wHy dIdN’t YoU jUsT gEt IcE cReAm??????”  
“I… I did. But you said you wanted froyo. And then we sang a song. And then we came here. And now we’re mopping up the mess you made!!”  
“dOn’T bLaMe Me!!!!!!! I’m PrEgNaNt!!!!!”  
“cAs!”  
“dEaN!!”  
Castiel began to shed tears that glimmered like an old European cut .20 carat cluster diamond engagement ring with .32 carat weight single-cut diamonds that costs about $1650.


End file.
